Apparently I couldn't wait until after the New Year to take the tree down. The last time I was this eager about purging myself of a Christmased house, I was three months pregnant and had full fledged morning sickness. The smell of pine and coffee together sent me running to the bathroom to gag. I have that same feeling, but I am definitely not pregnant. Hormonal, yes. Pregnant, no.
For one thing, we'd been living with it engulfing our tiny great room (the word "great room" is a misnomer in our house). And it was lovely while I had visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Now I just want everything put away and organized, and better yet, someone else to do it all for me. That of course, is not happening, but I did get the tree down and all the ornaments safely put away for next year without a single broken ornie this year! How's that for ambition!
Now, if only I could look this dreamy with a Christmas tree draped over my back as I haul it down the basement steps.
